A Very Merry Christmas
by MiHnn
Summary: Sometimes actions are not enough. Sometimes words are needed to quell the insecurities one might have. - Seasonal Harry x Hermione One shot.


**A/N - Written for horatio54 Smutty Claus 2012.  
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* * *

**A Very Merry Christmas****  
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Hermione sighed in frustration.

Narrowing her gaze with determination, she ran her fingers through the gelled dark hair of her best friend, only to huff in irritation when one by one, the dark strands popped up into the messy hairstyle he had always sported.

Harry's eyebrows rose mockingly at her. "Shouldn't you give up by now?"

"No," Hermione said sternly.

Pushing against his chest, she led him backwards until he was sitting on the couch at Grimmauld Place. Harry's lips twisted in amusement when she easily straddled his lap so that she was elevated and able to concentrate more on taming his untameable hair.

"I don't get it," she muttered in irritation, her fingers running through his hair again and again. "How can your hair be so stubborn? I was so sure that Muggle products would succeed where magic failed. At least mine can be charmed to behave." When a particularly stubborn section of his hair rose up faster than the others, she fisted the annoying strands in frustration.

Harry winced. "Ow."

"Sorry." Hermione soothed the ache gently with the light brush of her fingertips. She shook her head, a low breath escaping her in defeat. "Your hair is awful."

Harry tipped his head back so he could look at her, his green eyes mischievous. "I thought you liked my hair." He let his hands rub up and down her thighs before they slipped under her Muggle dress to touch bare skin. "You said you liked messy."

Blushing at the memory, Hermione let her fingers curl around the unruly strands at the back of his neck to hold his gaze to hers. "I said that _once_."

"I remember," Harry said with a twinkle in his eye. "I just never forgot it." She felt the way his hands caressed her skin and the way his thumbs played with the edge of her knickers. The minute he ducked his head and started placing warm, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat, Hermione protested.

"Harry," she said softly, her voice serious, even though her body was already shuddering from the attention. "We can't. Not now." One hand circled her hip to push her arse towards him so that she was resting completely on his crotch, while the other slipped between her thighs. Closing her eyes, Hermione gave in, if only for a moment. It was all she could do to _try_and pry herself away.

Harry's fingers moved expertly over the lace of her knickers while his warm breath brushed tantalisingly against the bare skin of her throat. "Let's stay," he breathed against her ear.

Her eyes popped open and she tried, unsuccessfully, to get off his lap. "We can't stay."

"Are you telling me that you don't want to?" His glasses were slightly askew and there was a playful smirk on his lips. "Because I think you might be lying." His fingers were under her knickers and touching the wetness between her thighs before she could protest. He was so cocky sometimes, but Hermione couldn't let him win.

With determination that even she was impressed with, Hermione finally managed to tug his hand from under her dress with a firm grip on his wrist and pull herself off his body and away from his embrace. "We have to go, Harry," she said with a strong tone as she brushed her dress with slow, strong strokes. She tried to think of other things rather than the feelings that were coursing through her. She tried to think of something that didn't focus on how much she would like to ignore the official invite lying on the nearby table and stay in bed with her best friend. With strong conviction in her tone, she said, "You know as well as I do that we can't both be missing from the same event."

Harry sighed before he straightened his glasses and stood up from the couch. "No one will know."

She looked at him pointedly. "We can't take that chance, now, can we?"

His expression changed from one of playfulness, which she liked, to one of seriousness, which she usually avoided. "Why not tell them?"

"You know why."

"No. I don't."

Hermione felt a headache come on. She raised two fingers to her temple and rubbed her forehead in an effort to soothe the ache. They have had this argument too many times to count. Every time she thought she might have appeased him, he brought it up again. "Harry…"

"I know," he said softly, his tone defeated. "We'll talk about it later."

Hermione made her way to the other end of the room to pick up her jacket that was strewn on a chair. "Let's just not complicate things, okay?"

He looked ready to say more, but at the last moment, his shoulders slumped. "Okay."

Relieved, Hermione shrugged on her jacket. "We should get going. The last thing we need is for Percy to give us a detention slip just because we're five minutes late for the Christmas Ball at the Ministry."

Her effort at humour was not ignored. Harry chuckled lightly, even though the humour did not quite reach his green eyes. Feeling the familiar pinch inside her chest whenever she disappointed him, she stepped closer, raised herself on her toes so she could kiss him gently. Harry responded, his lips pulling against hers and causing her to feel that familiar need in the base of her stomach. It was the same need that made her crave his attention and touch him whenever she could. It was the same need that made her giddy with excitement whenever she was free to visit him.

As she pulled away, Harry stopped her with a gentle hand behind her neck. "We have to talk about this."

His words caused her heart to plummet. She met his eyes squarely, her breathing laboured. "I know."

He didn't believe her. "We can't keep—"

"I know." She raised her head once again so she could kiss him. Hermione hoped that he might drop the issue if she kissed him hard enough or long enough. This seemed to be one of those moments where what she hoped for came to pass.

Pulling away gently, she gave a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Come on. We can't be too late."

They stepped through the fireplace together, but not before Hermione tried to flatten Harry's hair one last time.

* * *

It was spectacular! The Ministry of Magic had been transformed from polished walls and cold floors into a winter wonderland. The grand hall was white in its entirety with icicles framed precariously from the ceiling and a light dusting of snow falling on all the guests. There was an easy chatter filling the air as people mingled around, while a wizarding band played soothing music in the background. The twinkling fairy lights floating in the air and the snow covered tables gave the appearance of a winter stroll down an open street during Christmas. The decorations were vaguely reminiscent of the Yule Ball that they had celebrated in Hogwarts all those years ago. It brought back happy memories and a small smile to Hermione's lips.

When Hermione first stepped into the hall, she couldn't help but be surprised when the thick layer of snow that covered every inch of the usually pristine floor was charmed so that it felt like walking on smooth marble. She had grabbed Harry's arm expecting to need her wits to survive the night, but was pleasantly surprised when she found that she would not need someone to help keep her balance. When she looked up, she raised an eyebrow at the way Harry was looking at her. "What is it?"

He smiled softly, his shy demeanour making a surprising appearance for the first time in months. "Nothing. It's just…" His expression was sincere. "You look lovely tonight."

Hermione felt a light blush colour her cheeks. "Thank you, Harry. You look dashing yourself." His smile widened, and Hermione had the greatest impulse to kiss him. Instead, she dropped her arm from around his and stepped back. She didn't miss the way his eyes dimmed slightly in disappointment.

"Bloody time you two showed up."

Ron suddenly appeared, a goblet of Firewhisky in one hand and a scowl on his face. "Next time, we are all arriving together. I can't keep dodging Pemberton on my own."

Harry sighed. "He still hasn't dropped it, I gather."

"Far from it, Harry. The bloody fool has been following me from the moment I arrived." He nudged Harry's shoulder. "Your turn, mate. Go explain to the tosser that the reason we're cutting funding has nothing to do with his love for wearing women's stockings."

Harry's eyes widened. "What?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Just go." He waved at someone over Harry's shoulder before pushing him in that direction. "Unlike what comes out of my mouth, he'll believe whatever you say."

Harry had barely muttered a, "But," under his breath when an overly perfumed wizard with striking white hair intercepted him. "Ah! Mr Potter! I was hoping to have a word."

Hermione followed Ron's lead and made herself scarce by taking a few steps away from Harry and the man who seemed to make her best friend wince with each passing sentence. She couldn't help but smile at the way Harry tried to explain the new budget he had helped create for the Ministry. His shoulders were sagging with every argument Pemberton was spouting out, but he seemed to be trying to meet each argument with one of his own. She had no doubt that Harry would snap at the other wizard at any moment.

When she finally lifted her attention from Harry and his suffering, she was surprised to find Ron's blue eyes trained carefully on her.

"How are you?"

Her smile was small and strained. "I'm good. You?"

He shrugged. "Can't complain." He scratched the back of his neck, his eyebrows scrunching together in a frown. "I found a few more of your things."

"Oh." Hermione looked away. She found the ice sculpture of a reindeer fascinating.

"I can drop it off." He shifted from one foot to the other. "Are you still staying at Harry's?"

Hermione hoped that her face wasn't as flushed as she thought it was. "Yeah," she mumbled quickly. "For a short while."

"Good." Ron looked down at his drink and swirled it a few times. "I'm glad he's taking care of you."

The deep flush on her cheeks felt like it was setting her skin on fire. Luckily for her, Ron looked at everything other than her face, which she was very much grateful for.

"I should get going," he mumbled awkwardly.

Before Hermione could nod her agreement, he was gone.

"You okay?"

Hermione shook herself out of the slump she felt herself getting into before smiling at Harry. "Yeah. I'm fine." She smirked at his tired posture. "How did it go?"

Harry groaned. "That man is going to be the death of me. He plans to object to the new budget."

"How would he do that? It has practically passed. You have ninety percent of the Ministry on your side."

"You should try telling _him_that." He let out a low breath, his expression becoming serious. "See how he responds to that little bit of information."

The way he looked at her made her smile drop instantly. "What's wrong?"

"I was thinking…" Harry fidgeted, his head ducking as was his habit whenever he was about to relay bad news. "Maybe… we should just…" He shrugged, his green eyes studying hers intensely. "Stop." The way he looked at her made her think that she knew exactly what he was talking about.

Hermione felt her chest tighten. "What? I thought you wanted people to know."

"I do." He winced. "I did." When he finally looked at her, his smile was sad. "It's been a few months, Hermione. If you can't tell Ron—"

"I can," Hermione said, insisting. "It's not the right time yet."

Harry shook his head. He hated lying. He always believed that it led to nothing but pain. Hermione also knew that he thought she was lying to herself as well as to him. She had decided long ago not to think along those lines. She didn't think she could handle the truth of his words regarding this whole situation.

"Harry." She placed her hand gently on his arm, forcing him to meet her eyes to see the truth she had tried to convey so many times. "I will tell him. I promise."

He looked far from appeased. At that moment, a new song began playing. It was a ballad, slow and perfect for the couples on the dance floor to simply sway to the music. "Come on. Dance with me." Harry took her hand in his and Hermione followed him, eager to put this topic to rest.

The dance floor, which looked like pure ice from afar, didn't house as many couples as a more familiar song would have. But there were enough people around to give enough cover so that Hermione didn't feel the need to protest when Harry pulled her too close to him while his hand spanned her lower back and his thumb caressed the dip in her spine through her dress.

"Ginny asked me if there was anyone," he said suddenly, his voice deceptively casual.

Hermione immediately stiffened. "What?" She kept her gaze straight ahead on the wizards and witches conversing around the dance floor.

She could feel his warm breath brush her brow when he sighed. "I didn't know what to say."

Hermione got closer, hoping that whatever Harry said stayed between the two of them, at least for now. "What _did_you say?"

He paused for a moment, his steps smooth as he easily turned them around. "I said there was no one."

It surprised her how much her heart plummeted at his words. "Harry…"

"That's what you said, right?" Harry leant forward and his lips brushed against her hair when he said, "Deny, deny, deny."

Hermione pushed herself away from him. The pressure he was putting on her was finally starting to get to her. She felt like she was being suffocated, even though the alternative that could give her freedom from feeling this way felt too drastic to consider. "We don't know what we have yet. I don't see the point in telling everyone about something like this."

"You're right." Harry's voice was hard, his eyes, harder. "Why bother telling anyone about something that won't last?"

Before she could protest, his hands had dropped from around her. He left quickly through the surrounding crowd, leaving Hermione standing in the middle of the dance floor by herself. Even though she searched for green eyes, what she saw was blue. Suddenly uncomfortable, Hermione looked away from Ron and started towards the refreshment table. She wondered how she had let their transformation into adulthood affect the relationships she had with her best friends.

* * *

Hermione spent most of her evening meeting with various people from the Ministry while trying to further her cause for the house-elves. She was very aware that Harry avoided her whenever he could. When she felt parched, he happened to move to the food table. When she felt hungry, he was talking to a Head of a department or reliving the old, glory days of Quidditch. The dance they were taking part in was frustrating. She found herself slowly descending into a bad mood as the celebration progressed.

It was not until Harry got caught under low-hanging mistletoe that Hermione felt herself get snapped to attention. Most of the wizards who were already on their fourth or fifth goblet of Firewhisky were egging him on. Luna simply twirled in her pink and orange dress that had black feathers spouting out of her sleeves.

Hermione watched the spectacle with dread. Completely innocent as to what it might look like, Luna leant forward and placed her lips on Harry's in the form of a chaste kiss. "Happy Christmas, Harry," she said breezily before turning around and kissing Dean who happened to be beside her.

Harry's eyes were full of laughter as the Ministry officials hooted at the way Dean circled his arms around her and snogged her senseless. "Happy Christmas, Luna."

While everyone else looked at the spectacle of the two of them snogging, Hermione's gaze met Harry's. His smile immediately fell, but when she nudged her head behind her, Harry slipped away from the crowd and followed her to the magically constructed balcony. The air had been charmed to let a cool breeze through while the stars were burning brightly over their heads. It was a beautifully charmed night.

Once Harry closed the double doors behind them, he looked at her. "Hey."

Hermione felt the corner of her lips quirk upwards. He was so predictable sometimes. "Hey."

He opened his mouth to say something but she spoke over him.

"I don't know what you want from me."

His shoulders slumped. It couldn't have been more obvious that he had expected something very different to what she had said. Harry raised two fingers and pinched the bridge of his nose, causing his spectacles to rise precariously above his fingers. "That makes two of us," he said with a dry chuckle.

When he finally straightened his glasses and looked at her, Hermione felt that tug of guilt deep inside her chest. Recently, it felt like all she could feel was guilt, and it almost always led to Harry. "I…" She stopped. She didn't know what to say.

"You're my best friend," he said suddenly. "Ron's my best friend."

"I know that." Her voice was meek.

"I don't like lying to him."

She wished she could say that she felt the same way, but considering that keeping their relationship a secret had been her idea, it didn't feel right. Instead, she thought of the day when she had shown up at Grimmauld Place with all of her possessions in a little beaded bag because her relationship with Ron had finally ended. Harry had been adamant that she not give up, but she had known that her need to change Ron was stronger than her need to accept him as he is. Her best friend made her dinner, they opened an old bottle of wine, and when she kissed him, he tried to push her away. Hermione couldn't remember exactly what she had said to make Harry Potter forget himself, but whatever she whispered into his ear made his eyes darken and kiss her in a way that made her feel alive. Afterwards, it took them weeks of awkwardness before they could look at each other. It took them mere days after they had started talking to give into the temptation again. And again. And again. It was as if she couldn't stop herself around him. Her brain shuts off and all she can think about is how good it _feels._

She looked at him dreadfully. "What do you want to do?"

He sighed, his hand running through his messy hair and making the strands stick out all over the place. The image made her heart ache.

"If this is…" He stopped and cleared his throat. "If this is something to pass the time, then we should stop and Ron will never have to know."

Hermione waited for the second option, because there is always a second option, but Harry let the silence rest between them as he looked away. He was giving her an out and the sensible one inside her knew that she should take it. She had been telling herself that what she had with Harry was what it was. There were no declarations of love, just pure friendship that had been mixed with a physical relationship that she should have never started. This whole situation was nothing short of complicated.

And yet, Hermione couldn't stop herself from asking him, "If it's not? Something to pass the time, I mean?"

He looked at her as if he was too afraid to believe it. "Is it?"

She stepped closer to him, her tone pleading. "I don't know."

"Would you like it to be?" he asked softly.

Hermione's smile was small, because at least she knew the answer to that question. "Yes."

Harry barely gave her time to breathe, let alone say anything more, before his hand cupped the back of her neck and he kissed her. Hermione sighed into the kiss, relieved and happy with a possible million other emotions running through her. This was right, she thought, as she pulled him closer and parted her lips under his. This was—is—what she wanted.

They were snogging like hormone-driven teenagers, hands fisting in each others' clothes, tongues meeting and teeth clashing as Harry walked her backwards until her back hit the stone wall. She giggled when she felt his hand go under her dress and palm her arse. She knew instantly what he had in mind. "Harry…" Her laugh was breathless as he attacked her throat. "This is hardly the time."

"Shh." He kissed her chin, her eyelashes, and her ear while he tickled her side to make her laugh louder. "I think this is the perfect time." His grin was infectious. She rolled her eyes before pulling him closer for a deep kiss, which she hoped would distract him enough from trying to tickle her into submission.

The deep kiss led to him pushing his hips against hers as she raised a leg to circle his waist and pull him closer. His breath was warm against her cheek, his tongue causing a low moan to escape from the back of her throat as he grinded against her. Hermione gladly, breathlessly, met his movement with her own, the swirl of nerves in her lower belly tightening and mingling with the heat that surrounded them. When his fingers brushed against her breasts, once, twice, before trailing down her inner thigh and touching her knickers, Harry groaned against her neck. "You're so wet."

He slipped his fingers under the lace and caressed her core, rubbing against her sensitive flesh before he pushed one finger into her. Hermione laughed breathlessly against his ear. "I've been like this all night."

She felt his heartbeat quicken against his chest as he added another finger and started pumping them into her. "All night?"

"All night." She dug her nails into the soft flesh at the back of his neck and lightly bit his ear. "Now, Harry."

He kissed her roughly, his hand leaving her to fumble with his pants. Hermione tried to help, her fingers bumping against his while their kisses became messy. When he was finally free, she took him in her hand and stroked him before eagerly pulling him to her entrance. Harry rubbed against her knickers once more before yanking them aside. She felt him rub against her flesh, her wetness coating his flesh before he pushed in. Hermione sighed as he filled her. Nothing else felt as right as this; nothing else had ever come this close. She was infinitely grateful that she had been on a strict potions regiment, which allowed her to not worry about anything but the man between her legs.

Once Harry was buried to the hilt, he stopped to look at her while his breathing was slow and deep. "Are you sure?"

Hermione grinned as she ran her fingers through his hair. "Yes, Harry Potter. So long as you promise to listen to me and not skip breakfast."

His laughter made her heart sore. "Will you listen to me and not read while you eat?"

Her eyes narrowed playfully at him. "I have books to finish." He pulled out and pushed in. "And work to do," she said with a gasp.

He pulled out again. "And I work 'till late." He pushed in slowly and bit her shoulder. "I can't…" He grabbed her waist as his strokes started a slow rhythm. "…wake up so early."

Hermione shifted to get closer, her hips meeting his maddeningly slow movement in an effort to make him go faster, harder. She lightly kissed his neck as her fingers splayed across his chest. "You know…" she began conversationally as her eyes closed and she buried her face against him. "There is a wonderful thing called an alarm clock…"

A burst of laughter escaped him before he started peppering her neck with warm, wet kisses. "Never heard of it, funny enough."

"I'll get you one." She tightened her lower muscles and heard him groan. He began to move a little bit faster. "It will be pink with fairies on it."

"Dear God, no." It was her turn to laugh until he pushed her up against the wall and raised her other leg so that it circled his other hip. Hermione easily complied, letting him brace her against the wall as he started thrusting into her faster.

There was no more laughter, just need as Harry practically drilled her into the wall. Her back hurt, her legs ached, but she didn't care. She pulled him closer, her teeth nipping at his skin while he roughly caressed her breasts through her dress. As he got faster, so did their gasps, their breaths, and Hermione was getting close.

But then the door to the terrace opened and they both froze. Hermione was thankful for a few things at that moment; mostly that there were enough six foot tall plants around to conceal them for the time being.

"This is pretty."

Hermione met Harry's eyes. They recognised the voice as one belonging to a Parvati Patil.

"I don't see her." Lavender! "Are you sure you saw her go through here?"

"I'm sure of it. I thought I saw Harry go through here too."

With a silent groan, Harry dropped his head to her shoulder in frustration.

"Maybe they're back inside."

"They're not inside. I'm sure of it."

Hermione felt an evil grin play on her lips as she braced herself on the wall, raised her hips and brought them down again. Harry groaned before raising his head to look at her.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

His green eyes were intense as he mouthed the words. _What are you doing?_

Hermione shrugged non-committedly and raised her hips once again. He tried to stop her with a hand on her waist, but Hermione tightened her muscles around him and met his hips with hers.

"Who else can we ask to give the speech?"

A shudder wracked through Harry as he dropped his head. His fingers tightened painfully around her hip. But when he looked up, and his gaze met hers, Hermione knew she was in trouble.

"Neville?"

A snort. "_Neville?_"

He dropped his hand between her legs and practically ripped her knickers to get better access to he bundle of nerves just above where they were joined.

"How about Seamus?"

"He's probably still exploding things."

Hermione squirmed, and with an evil smirk, Harry started pushing into her faster, his hips carefully not to meeting hers while he stroked her nub with expert fingers.

"Dean is good with commentary."

"So is Luna."

"Did you see that dress?"

He kissed her roughly, swallowing her whimpers. But she wanted more. She didn't care if they could hear. She met him with each thrust.

"It's nice seeing them all again."

"It is. I still want to give Luna a lesson in appropriate fashion choices."

Their control started slipping, he thrust into her harder, his thighs slapping against hers while he buried himself deep inside her with each passing stroke. Hermione felt grateful that the clothing around his hips was the perfect barrier to stop the sound from being what it should be.

"You know it has to be Harry."

"Or Hermione."

"Where are they?"

She came undone with an undignified keen which he swallowed in a passionate kiss. And a few thrusts later, she felt him twitch inside as he buried his teeth in her neck in an effort to keep quiet. As their heartbeats slowed down and they tried to catch their breaths, Parvati let out a small laugh.

"What is it?"

"If I didn't know any better, I would say the two of them were off in a corner somewhere shagging."

Hermione stiffened and Harry grinned into her neck.

Lavender chuckled. "Sure. The two biggest prudes of our year," she said sarcastically.

Hermione bristled at Lavender's opinion. With a humorous smirk playing on his lips, Harry kissed her gently to distract her.

Parvati sighed. "Let's go. They're bound to be somewhere in the Ministry. They're probably saving someone from something, anyway."

The moment the door closed Hermione collapsed onto the wall behind her. "Prudes? They think we're prudes?"

"That's what you're concerned about?"

Harry chuckled as he slipped out of her and helped her onto her feet gently. Hermione immediately missed the feel of him when he untangled his arms from around her body and started tucking himself in.

Hermione tried to straighten her dress, which wasn't that hard to do. Her hair was another matter. Harry brushed a stray curl from across her cheek and placed a light kiss the place where the messy strands had touched her skin. Hermione tried to do the same with his hair, but that was a lost cause even before she had met him.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

Hermione grinned. "Positive." She kissed him quickly, a small peck on the lips for fear that she might deepen it and gladly let him take her against the wall again. Her expression sobered instantly at her next thought. "We should tell Ron together. He should be the first to know."

Harry nodded, his green eyes full of pain. "He's going to hate me."

"No." She slipped her arms around his waist to keep him close. "Not if we explain it right."

He raised a gentle hand to cup her neck while his thumb stroked her jaw tenderly. "How can we explain it right?"

"You're my best friend," Hermione said simply as she rested her cheek against his palm. "I've always loved you, Harry. First as a friend and now…" She looked at him shyly. "More."

He kissed her temple before pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her snugly. "You're my best friend, Hermione," he said softly. "But you've always been more."

Hermione felt her chest constrict at his words. She pulled back to look at him when she saw the first signs of a light snowfall begin. Harry looked up too, his eyes studying the small, charmed snowflakes as they fell around them.

"Must be midnight," he said softly. He looked back at her, his eyes bright with happiness. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

Hermione felt the familiar sting behind her eyes and hoped to Merlin that she wouldn't burst into tears. She pulled him closer, hoping that he could understand exactly how important he was to her. "Happy Christmas, Harry," she whispered softly against his lips before she let him kiss her. She raised herself on her toes and kissed him back gently, her heart feeling lighter than what it had been in years.

.

_Fin.  
_


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